


The Revenge of Bucky Barnes (part 1)

by ASoldierwhoknowstheirorders (orphan_account)



Series: The Revenge Of Bucky Barnes [1]
Category: Captain America, Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-09 16:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16453802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ASoldierwhoknowstheirorders
Summary: Bucky Remembers, and wants Revenge.





	1. Remembering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlaiddtheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddtheWolf/gifts), [Stargirl4Ever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargirl4Ever/gifts), [TheAutotheist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAutotheist/gifts), [reclusiveq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclusiveq/gifts), [MakingPoetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakingPoetry/gifts), [tsukinesfaerii](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tsukinesfaerii), [captain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain/gifts), [Dawnwolf17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwolf17/gifts).



Remembering.

Bucky stared at the wall, his gaze was unfocused. His mind was not on the present; no, it was on the past.

(Flashback. November 21, 1934)  
"Please don't do this. I beg you please." The woman's voice was broken, she was on her knees begging him not to go through with this. "Please, James, I beg you; don't do this to us."

His blue gaze studied her, he didn't know her... At least he didn't remember her. Her plead fell on deaf ears as he slid a colt semi automatic pistol from its holster at his hip.

His gaze went to the young man kneeling beside her, the boy was tense, looking ready to attack at a moments notice. Good let him try. He thought, he wanted one of them to make a wrong move. 

There was a soft click as he released the safety on the pistol, the woman tried one last time, "James, please don't-" she was cut off as he cocked the gun, aimed, then pulled the trigger. The bullet instantly killed her son.

She began screaming and crying hysterically, but he ignored it, re-aiming the pistol so that it was trained on her. She froze, then a small whimper escaped her lips. He ignored it and placed his finger on the trigger and pulled.

(Present day)  
Bucky hated remembering all the murders he committed under Hydra's control, but he had no say in what his mind pulled up. He remembered her name and her son's name, Hannah Grey and her son Devin. 

His mind dragged him from that piece of remembering and threw him into the middle of another memory; another unwanted memory.

(Unknown month, day and year.)

He was kneeling on a rooftop, his sniper rifle was already in position. Now all he needed was for his target to show, and to get the all clear and go ahead from his handler.

He had patience in abundance when needed, and it was needed during this long wait. He didn't know how long he knelt there, but the next thing he knew a voice hissed in his ear over the comms, "Get ready Soldier, target and accessory are headed your way." 

He scanned the area with a pair of night vision binoculars, and soon the target came into view. He silently set the binoculars down beside him before using the high power, long range scope on his rifle to relocate his target.

"Target is in sight," he responded via said comms, "Permission to take out target?" 

"Wait on that Soldier, is the accessory in sight also?" His handler asked. 

He scanned the area, "Negative, accessory is not in sight." He heard his handler swear. 

"Secondary instructions, locate accessory, and eliminate," his handler instructed.

"Understood," he replied, he paused, "Do I take out the target first?" He asked. There was a moment of silence, then,

"New instructions. Remove target, close quarters. Secondary instructions, remove accessory, close quarters. Understand?"

"Yes sir," he responded immediately. He dismantled his sniper rifle and shoved the pieces into the black duffel bag beside him, he also put the night vision binoculars into the bag. Then pulled out a skorpion semi automatic rifle from the bag, a few throwing knives, and a Glock pistol. 

"I am in pursuit of the target," he said. Taking a forty-five plus drop as if it were a normal everyday thing.

Silently, he stalked the target. Suddenly, he had to flatten himself against the wall of an alleyway as the said accessory strolled into view.

"I have eyes on both the target and accessory, waiting for further instructions." He said softly, so that it was only picked up by the comms; at least that's what was supposed to have happened.

However, the accessory turned towards where he wad hiding. Before turning to the target and whispering something in said target's ear. Said target glanced sharply to where Bucky was standing, he knew they couldn't see him, but that didn't make him any less uneasy.

"Remove target; close quarters. Secondary instructions; remove accessory; close quarters." His handler repeated.

He was about to move forward when, out of nowhere, four other men arrived on scene. "I make four likely hostiles on scene," he reported.

"What? Where did they come from?" 

"Unknown," he replied. Then, the four men moved in his direction, "hostiles approaching," he said, "permission to engage."

"Permission granted," his handler said. 

(Present day)  
Thankfully his mind pulled him out of that one. He hated this, Steve had said it was his mind's way of healing his destroyed and broken memory. He'd shut Steve down within five minutes of the conversation. And then he'd left, leaving Steve behind.

He'd gone off grid until he could figure out his own mind, and was more stable. However, that had been two months ago, and he still wasn't stable, his memories were still jumbled, fractured and confused.

He stood up and headed for his front door, after stepping out he breathed in the cool night air, trying to clear his chaotic mind. When he had had enough of the cold wind biting his bare skin, he turned to head inside when something caught his eye; it was a old rusty pair of dog tags.

He bent and picked to up, rubbing his finger along it, he removed a layer a of dirt. 

Sargent Barnes. 107th infantry. 3145234.

How had his dog tags wound up out here? Where had they come from?

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. That man was gone, Hydra had killed him. All that was left was their broken monster.

He hated Hydra for that. He wanted his life back, the life Hydra had taken and destroyed.

(Flashback, location:unknown, month: unknown, day: unknown, year: 1944)

"Sargent Barnes," a voice said, "You've managed to last this long, because you think Captain America will find you and save you. I have a surprise for you,"

"Go to hell," He spit. The man laughed. 

"Maybe later, but enough talking." The man pressed a button and Steve's voice came over the staticky radio,

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"

"Captain Rogers, what is your..." Suddenly a female voice cuts in. He recognized the voice, but couldn't place her name.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?"

"Peggy!" Oh right, Peggy. She was a sweet girl. "Schmidt’s dead." Good Riddance.

"What about the plane?" She asked.

"That’s a little bit tougher to explain." Steve don't play hero.

"Give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site."

"There’s not going to be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down." Steve, don't do this.

"I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do."

"There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water." Stev, please don't.

"Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out." He agreed with Peggy.

"Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice. Peggy?" No, Steve... 

"I’m here."

"I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance."

"Alright. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it."

"Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don’t know how to dance."

"I’ll show you how. Just be there."

"We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your… "

The line goes static and Peggy begins to cry."

"Steve? Steve? Steve?" 

The man pressed the button again. The silence explodes in his ears.

"NO!" He screamed. "Steve!" He struggled against the restraints. "Steve!"

(Present Day)

That day Bucky, the real Bucky, died alongside Steve. Hydra had won.

Present day Bucky was what was left. An ex-assassin with a lot of blood on his hands, a broken, destroyed man.

He wanted to make Hydra pay. And pay they would.


	2. Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry so short, I promise the next one will be longer.

They'd pay.

He'd make them pay.

Hell, he'd make sure they died in slow, agonizing, or brutally violent ways. He knew it was wrong. He didn't care. They'd caused him so much pain, they'd made him cause others so much pain.

It was their turn to receive the same. To receive pain the way they'd caused him pain.

\---------

His gaze went to the maps he had spread out on his kitchen table, in red he'd circled the areas where he knew Hydra bases were located, in blue he'd tracked the route he'd follow. A black notebook resting on top of the maps held detailed information on how he'd take out each base.

He was planning. Step by step. He'd carefully planned it so that it would be all over the news only after he was gone. 

He'd tip off local newspapers, hell, the police would probably be looking for him. Steve would be looking for him. All the major government agencies would be looking for him, so would the minor ones. It would be a manhunt, but he wouldn't let them catch him until he'd gotten his revenge.

The first base was located here in New York. That was his target.


	3. Revenge Will Be Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter after this one! There will be a sequel! Stay with me!

Katie Hernandez's office phone rang. She glanced at the number, it read unknown caller.

Frowning she picked up her office phone. "Hello?"

"Is this Katie Hernadez with the New York Times?" A deep voice greeted her.

"Um, yes. Who is this?" She asked.

"No one you need to concern yourself with right now." The man said, "I'm calling to tell you of an attack that will be happening a week from now. You'll want to cover it."

"Excuse me? I need to know my source," but the line went dead.

"Who was that?" Her colleague, Nick asked. 

"I don't know," She replied honestly.

\--------

Jonas Michael's office phone rang. He didn't glance at the number before answering. "Hello, Jonas Michael with NBC news. What can I do for you?"

"There will be an attack a week from now, you'll want to cover it." A Male voice said. Before Jonas could respond the line went dead.

"You get chewed out?" Donna his camerawoman asked.

"No, it was an anonymous caller." He replied sounding puzzled.

"What did he say?"

"He said there'd be an attack a week from now,"

"Did he say where?" She asked.

"No. No he didn't."

"What time,"

"Huh-uh, he was really vague. He only said it'd be a week from now."

\---------

Bucky hung up after making the second call. He knew they'd be wanting a location and time - and soon. But he wasn't going to let them know until the day before.

His gaze went to a picture of Steve he had on the fireplace mantel. He strode over to it and picked it up, it was a black and white photo of Steve before he became serum enhanced.

He tossed it onto the table beside a copy of his black notebook and copies of the maps he had marked his routes on.

If things went according to plan, Steve wouldn't discover this cabin until after his first attack. And by then he'd be well on his way to Germany. 

Sorry Steve, we might have been friends at one point, but that man died a long time ago, and he's not coming back.

He slammed a knife into the note, driving the knife through the table top.

He grabbed the duffle bag that contained his weapons, and ID's that he'd need for his next hit.

He walked out of the cabin and didn't look back.

\-------

Six days later.

Steve sighed, "Sam, he's been missing for six months now, where could he be?"

"I don't know Steve, the guy was an assassin, he could be hiding in plain sight for all we know."

"Or, he could be halfway around the world, and we wouldn't find him," Natasha said.

At that moment Steve's cellphone rang. "Saved by the bell," he commented, before answering. "This is Steve Rogers, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Rogers? Hello, my name is Katie Hernadez."

"Hello, Miss Hernadez, what can I help you with?"

"Almost a week ago I received an anonymous phone call, I work with the New York Times, the call came in, and a male voice said that there would be an attack a week from then, and that I'd want to cover it,"

Steve frowned, he'd long since learned to take threats seriously. "Did he say where and what time?" 

"No, not then. But another anonymous call came in a few minutes ago stating the when and where and he said to let you know the moment he hung up." 

Now Steve was worried, "What time and what's the location?"

"Tomorrow at three forty-five p.m. And the location wasn't a building, but a street, Kingston Avenue. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, I do," Steve replied.

"Should I cover it?" Katie asked.

Steve frowned, "It doesn't sound safe, I don't think you should."

"Okay, I won't. Stay safe Captain." Katie said softly before hanging up.

"Who was that?" Sam asked.

"Katie Hernadez from the New York Times. She received an anonymous call about an attack, taking place tomorrow at three forty-five pm."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, "That doesn't sound good, does she know why the man called her?" Steve shook his head.

"No, all we have to go off of is the information he gave her."


	4. THIS IS NOT A TRUE CHAPTER

This is just to say for those who read this that I will continue this later. I have a different story in progress if you are interested.


End file.
